


How I met my wife

by Beckily



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Awkward first meeting, F/M, Flowers, Good Intentions, based on a real story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 14:48:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21375859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beckily/pseuds/Beckily
Summary: There was this story:https://www.distractify.com/p/flowers-strangers-grave-storyAnd it just made me think of Alistair. I wrote this awhile ago. I think I thought I'd add to it, but I think it's fine as is.
Relationships: Alistair/Female Cousland (Dragon Age)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30





	How I met my wife

“Hello, again, Duncan,” Alistair murmured, spreading out his blanket and sitting down in front of the small headstone. “I hope you don’t mind a lunch date today, I forgot to eat breakfast and I’m starving.”

Alistair dug into the paper bag he’d brought with him, setting out his sandwich, chips, and drink. He ate quietly for awhile, enjoying the sunny day.

When he was done, he dug into his bag, pulling out flowers for Duncan, and then flowers for his neighbor Rendon Howe. They died in the same year, and yet no one ever left anything for him. Alistair had gotten in the habit of buying flowers for him, because the empty grave always seemed so sad.

“Here you go, Rendon!” he laid the flowers on the nameplate. 

“And Duncan. I decided you get sun flowers today, nice and big,” He arranged the sunflowers carefully. He used a cloth to clean up the headstone, and then sighed. “I miss you so much. Almost 3 years, but it feels like yesterday. And a lifetime ago.”

He chatted with Duncan, letting him know the things that had gone on in the last few weeks since he’d been able to visit, until an alarm on his phone went off, letting him know he needed to go or he’d be late for work.

He packed up his things, nodded to the stones, and headed out.

\---

He was up late that night, unable to fall asleep. Several ridiculous quizzes and entertaining lists later, he started thinking again about Duncan, and then Rendon. 

Buying twice the bouquets wasn’t a huge expense, but it suddenly struck him as odd that he’d never bothered to look him up before. Knowing something about the man would be sensible at this point, in case anyone ever got around to asking why he’d been bringing him flowers for years.

“Rendon Howe, Denerim,” he murmured as he typed, hoping there’d at least be an obituary near the top of the search results.

There was not.

There were, however, a very large number of news articles about him. About how he paid for the murder his best friends, their visiting daughter in law, and _young grandchild_. And then his subsequent suicide when he realized there was enough evidence to send him to prison for the rest of his life.

Alistair stared at his phone in horror.

\---

The next weekend found him at a different cemetery with more bouquets of flowers. Luckily for him, the family was buried together in a lovely family plot. He awkwardly placed the flowers on their graves as he read them.

“Hello. I ah,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “I made a rather horrible discovery recently. And.. and I know flowers don’t fix anything, but it seemed fitting somehow. I don’t know.”

He stood stiffly, his hands in his pockets, just staring at the gravestone of Oren Cousland blankly.

“Oh,” said a voice behind him. “I didn’t expect anyone else to be here.”

He turned quickly, startled to see a young woman with her own giant bundle of flowers.

“No! No, I-” he managed. “I’m sorry. I just… brought flowers. I can go.”

She looked him over, eyes narrowed but friendly. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met?”

“No,” he held out his hand, and then awkwardly lowered it again since her hands were full. “I’m Alistair.”

“Hello, Alistair. I’m Brynne. How did you know my family?”

“Oh!” he shifted. He was blushing, this was terrible. “I.. I really don’t. I just.. It’s.. It’s a really weird story. I just wanted to appolygize? Though, I… I don’t know. I just heard about it. It’s terrible.”

She blinked at him.

“My good friend died, see?” he tried. “And I visit him as often as I can. The grave next to his, no one ever visited. And they were of a similar age, died the same year. I don’t know. I started bringing flowers for the other grave. It seemed sad that no one came.”

She frowned, nodding, shuffling the flowers in her arms to be more comfortable.

“It was Rendon Howe!” he blurted and she blanched. “I didn’t know! I got curious last week, and realized I could easily look him up, see who he was. I was thinking… I don’t know, maybe we had some kind of weird connection and that’s why it bothered me? But then I saw…”

He shrugged and nodded towards the graves. “So.. so I brought them flowers. To appolygize. I didn’t know.”

Brynne blinked at him. “You.. brought strangers flowers to make up for the fact that you had been bringing their murderer flowers.”

“For two and a half years!” he blurted. “I- why didn’t I check that first day?”

She blinked at him again. And then laughed.

He buried his face in his hands, and she kept laughing.

“That-” she managed. “Is the sweetest, most ridiculous story I have ever heard.”

He nodded, laughing helplessly.

“My mother would think it was hilarious. Good intentions and all that.”

“Yeah,” he smiled then. “I hope so. And hopefully I didn’t find flowers they’re allergic to or something, that would really top it off.”

She smiled and looked at the flowers. “Those are Oranna’s favorites, in fact. Just a moment, let me distribute these.”

She set her flowers carefully on the graves, arranging them to look nice with Alistair’s.

“I-” Alistair felt very out of place all of a sudden, but he found that he would hate to walk away and never see her again. “Could I take you out sometime?”

She blinked up at him, and then smiled warmly. “Absolutely.”


End file.
